I do not know why I’m here exactly. I do not know how my well-known ‘no’ changed to a pathetic ‘yes’ last Monday. Maybe I’m doing Cici’s a favor… maybe I’m just tired. It’s not like this is the first time that she asked me to do this; the ‘times’ took years actually. She’s my best friend for years and I really love her, but right now, right here, at this moment, I really want to kill her.

I do not know why I remember that particular radio dedication but it did made me realize that everybody will have a boyfriend once they are 14. I was 12 then, and boy, do I have a lot to learn. 14 came and went and I decided that maybe 14 was not my year. 16 came next and I made a pact to myself that I would not have a boyfriend until I am 20. I mean, since I’m a roll, why not do something stupid? I knew then that I was not pretty enough and being that, I said to myself "Why bother?" I hid all my make-up in the dark corners of my closet and vowed never to touch them. On occasions, I hastily took them out and stare at them, feeling as if I saw my ‘old’ fleeting self for a while. That never last long – I’m allergic to dust.

It’s not that I do not like guys, I do. I just don’t think that anybody will like me. Despite repeat attempts by my friends in convincing me that I’m great, fun, so ‘in-the-moment’, I will be crazy to believe them. Come on, they are my friends, it’s one of the responsibilities and functions of being a friend. They got so tired of doing that and hearing my defense that they stopped. I kind of miss them sometimes.

So, finally the day came when I was going to be 20 for a year (have you of anyone being a certain age longer? Let’s delete the women here). Guess what I got for my birthday? A makeover (!). They told me that since I do not wear them, it would be nice to show ‘me’ how make-up can improve my looks. I do not want to tell them the truth at that moment but it’s not only my looks that need improvement but my own self. I found it really weird to have my friends peering and staring at me while my face was being caked. As much as I want to deny it, I really feel like the ugly duckling that day… and I have the pictures to prove it.

That was some years ago and I have not still recover fully from condemning myself. I still do not like anyone in particular. I’m only in Phase 1 of the ‘make-up experience’. That means, just lip balm, lipstick and lining my eyebrows. I throw myself at work, knowing that if I do not do anything, my mind will go crazy again. And, I’m still with Cici and Hannah – they are there to keep me sane. They live out the world that I’ve always want to be a part of but I’m too much of a coward to step in. I always put myself in their shoes every time I hear their horror and sometimes ‘Benny Hill’ experience with guys whom they went out with. It is fun and I’m happy that they are out there, in the market. I’m not even on sale!

I’m not afraid of guys, I’m just afraid about how I act around them… alone. I do not have experience that I could count on from school – I do not have any! I do not have childhood sweethearts’ memories that I could count on. All I have are the stories that I hear from Cici and Hannah, which are not that reliable, seeing that both of them are still single. I believe that there is a time for everything and maybe now is not the right time for me to go out with guys. I think going out is painful. I guess, it’s just going to hurt too much.

If I pay Cici 5 dollars every time she mentioned a guy that she met, seen, knew or recalled to me, she will be a thousand-aire by 30 (with all the interest in the account). That Monday, being blue, was just not my day. I was drained of all my energy and I still have to meet Cici for dinner. She just got off a plane and phoned me from airport to meet me. She told me to meet at our usual place and she hung up. I only managed to squeeze in a "Hey!"

She was late, as usual. I do not know how she did it but she still managed to look gorgeous after spending 15 hours on the flight. We sat, we drank, we ate but I know something was up – she could not wipe off that Colgate smile off her face. Then she dropped the bomb. She made a pact with some devil – and I’m the pawn. She had set me up with the guy who sat next to her on the plane. She said she had perfect reason for doing so – we are ‘perfect’ for each other. My hand and voice failed me at the moment that I needed them most – I was munching on a brownie and holding the fork in my hand. Cici gushed at how I finally agreed to a date after all these years. She phoned Hannah straight after that to tell her the ‘good’ news. I still can’t talk – a nut was stuck in my teeth.

I was sucked into it. Perhaps, there is a tiny wee bit inside of me who wanted to meet the guy. But there’s a bigger bit that wanted me crawl into a hole and stay there. Finally, the Wednesday came but this time, I was made sure that I did not bail out. Hannah did my clothes and my hair and Cici fussed over my make-up and shoes. I guess for the trouble that I’ve gave them all these years, they deserved my silence during the ‘makeover’. I had to say that with the 3 of us, I do look better. Does this mean that I will start going out with guys? Probably not, but it’s a start. I mean, if I pride myself in being a risk-taker, why is this any different? Or perhaps, I’m just getting too old to be a stubborn teenager in my 20s. Life is a risk… a movie character once said that.

Here I am, waiting for the guy while trying to refrain myself from scratching my eyes out – the mascara is just too thick. Where the hell is that guy? I hate waiting, I hate being stood up, and I hate Cici! No, no, hate is too strong a word; loathe, now that’s better.

"Hi! I’m the devil that Cici told you about. I’m Adam", the devil spoke.

I looked up.

"Uh hi. Nice to meet you dev – Adam! Edy here". Blue eyes, nice cheekbones, great height… wait, how did he know that?

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